


This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

by ponitatherebelliouspony



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Battle, Black Romance, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, M/M, Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-06
Updated: 2011-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponitatherebelliouspony/pseuds/ponitatherebelliouspony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Karp held a powerful reign over Dersites for centuries. When limiting asks, posts, and character use finally threatens King Hussie's strict but kind rule over Prospit, a line must be drawn. The final battle takes place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

            “Lord Karp! King Hussiah’s troops have broken through our defences!” a young page exclaimed, nearly tripping on his oversized robes and adjusting the glasses on his face.

 

            The Lord moves nary an inch. He was facing away from the mahogany doors in his golden velvet office chair. He smoothed out his violet robes, lavender-coloured spirals and a singular crescent moon emblazoned on his grandeur getup.

 

            “I thought I had told you never to speak of that creature in this castle,” his voice was merely a whisper, but the malice resonated in his words nonetheless. With a flick of his finger, large black carapace guards dragged the page away, and the page sobbed quietly.

 

            The Lord ushered the other guards away, though not without objection. “I must finish this _alone_ ,” he requested firmly, and they left.

 

            Now to wait.

 

 

 

            It wasn’t long before the quiet sound of aerial disruption whispered through the silence. An echoing tap of glorious amethyst shoes met his ears, and he almost flinched.

 

            Almost.

 

            “Hey, Fishface,” the voice spoke and grated against The Lord’s eardrums. A growl escaped his throat, and he turned around to the one who greeted him.

 

            “Hussie.”

 

            “Now, babe, why so formal? I thought we were on a pet-name basis. You wound me so,” the King spoke, a smile dancing along the edges of his lips. Lord Karp examined his other with disdain, noting a change in fashion. Gold matching his own shoes adorned The King’s figure comfortably, a simple battle outfit that allotted him free of motion restrictions.

 

            “Honestly, Andrew. Pyjamas? _Really?_ For our final meeting. I would have expected better from you. Possibly that stylish green suit you possess,” Karp commented, a playful snarl marking his face.

 

            “Alas, I leave the fashion to you, Fishie. I believe I am more talented at… _other_ things,” a smile befitting of a shark graced him as he released the bloodied winged sword from his strife deck. With an evil glint in his eyes, he ran his tongue up the blade and flicked his eyes towards Lord Karp. Karp coughed and rubbed his knuckles.

 

            “Andrew, I know you are not here for… _that_ kind of thing. Please, let us get to business,” he urged, and Andrew held back a laugh and nodded.

 

            “Yes, of course. You first,” he replied, motioning his hand politely.

 

            Lord Karp released his Thorned Tentacles of Thine Elder Gods, a ropekind weapon only capable of control by those of his prowess. Black and thorned, attached to a thick pair of strapped leather gloves to keep it in place on his arms. A hushed whisper began ringing through his mind.

 

            “Oh, honestly Fishface, you’re going to let them take over? You might as we- Woah! At least you could let me get in fighting stance,” Andrew spoke, narrowly missing the first whip of Lord Karp’s dual-wielded weapon.

 

            “Yo̢ur m͜ove,͠ K͡in̴g,” The Lord replied, impatience staining his already torn voice. Andrew nodded, poising his weapon.

 

            And so the fight began.

 

            Clashing white and black. Violet and Gold. Humming metal struck writhing tentacles with a horrific shriek. Andrew licked his luscious lips and huffed. He knew the last time he would be in his dear’s presence, it would not be easy. Such a view had been provided by Skaia’s beautiful clouds. The Lord had strengthened since their last fight, but he was ready.

 

            “Is ̡th͘a̸t ͞al͘l you ̴got͝, Hus̕si̷e?͜ ͡Suc̴h a̢ sham͠e̕.”

 

            “You’re funny. Of course not, Dave,” Andrew snorted.

 

            “I͠ ̨͠͡t҉́o̵l͝d̶ ̢y͜o̧u̴ ͟͝ne͟v̨͟é͘͜r͠ ͘͡tó ͟c̢̨a̷̷l̶l̡͠ ̵͢m̵e͞ ́tha͘t͘,͠ y̵͠ơu͟ ͞d̴is̀g҉̶ú̸̵s̶̶̀t̨͢ing̕ s̷cum̸̨!͢” David launched at Andrew, but met with cold black stone. Andrew had slid underneath Karp and whipped around. The other jumped up, seething. A chilling atmosphere surrounded him, and shadow began to consume. Andrew raised his glorious Sepulchritude once more.

 

            David and Andrew both jumped towards each other. David motioned to hit The King across the throat, but faked last second and yanked the godly sword from his hands. Lord Karp kicked the other, and landed atop of him on the floor. Andrew was gasping for breath as Karp sat up.

 

            “Far҉e̡we͝l͞l.”

 

            As Karp raised his thorned ropes one last time, Andrew’s eyes flashed green. A trickle of red escaped from Karp’s mouth, his eyes wide with shock. He fell backwards with a sickening squelch.

 

            Hussie sat up with a frown. He hovered over Karp’s dying body, running a calloused finger over the red that marked such a pathetic sword he had conjured. He would have accepted such a death if it weren’t for the clouds he so worshiped on mother Skaia.

 

            “You miscalculated. I am space. I am everything around you, all-powerful and all-controlling,” he explained. He leaned in close and smiled.

 

            “I hate you.”


End file.
